


Don’t let him catch you looking scared

by AnnaFay



Series: Don’t let him catch you looking scared [1]
Category: Padmaavat (2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Power Imbalance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaFay/pseuds/AnnaFay
Summary: You will like it in my harem. You will be happy. And only mine.
Series: Don’t let him catch you looking scared [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858198
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Don’t let him catch you looking scared

It took the guard ages to walk the last bit of corridor leading to the guest’s room, which gave his comrades plenty of time to stare, and when he returned, he brought another set of eyes with him too. He had strong, Egyptian features and a slave’s tag hanging around his neck on a leather cord, but he cocked his head and scanned her with a self-assured smile that suggested he was as accustomed to giving orders as taking them.

“Well…” He took the flagon and poured some wine into the cup on her tray, swallowing it in one go, but never taking his eyes off her. “Your master certainly intends to woo mine,” he said, smacking his lips.

“He does,” she replied. “This is his best wine.”

He laughed at the jest, then clicked his tongue and waved her to follow him, setting a pace that made it easy enough for her to match, even with the tray.

Feeling emboldened by his friendly demeanour, she waited a few more steps, but looked up at him from the corner of her eye. “Any advice?” she asked in a low voice.

“Don’t let him catch you looking scared.”

A man of his station must have known she wanted to learn if his master preferred the tip of the tongue or the scrape of sharp teeth against his skin, but there was no way of telling why he had decided to give her this piece of advice. Was it a genuine warning? Or was this his way of ensuring that she would step into the room with her heart in her throat, because his master did like them a little scared?

“I’m not scared,” she said lightly.

“Good.”

His smile was hard to read and they were at the door, so she decided that that was the whole sentence, there was no silent ‘not yet’ creeping in the shadows between the columns of the corridor behind them, and followed him with her head held up high.

“Where would you like the wine, Sire?” he asked.

“Here.”

At first all she could see of the Sultan of Delhi were the top of his head over the high back of his seat by the table and his naked left arm and shoulder.

“And the girl?”

“On the bed.”

Handing over the tray, she walked to the bed and climbed in, positioning herself at the center of it and adjusting the skirt of her dress so that it would be draped fetchingly around her outstretched legs.

Despite being closer to the table, she still couldn’t see much more of the man she was to pleasure. Mainly because of his servant, who stood right between them, blocking her view for a little longer as he poured the wine.

“Send out those tonight, and just rid me of the rest.”

Stepping to the side to retrieve the strongbox from the other end of the table, he let her see that his master was sitting barefoot, with his ankle across his knee, and as he reached for his cup, she could also catch a glimpse of his hand. It looked strong, and large enough to hold both her wrists without any trouble too.

Then he stood and turned to look at her.

_Don’t let him catch you looking scared._

It was easier said than done, but she willed her toes to keep still and not curl as he started walking towards her, and even managed to raise her head ever so slightly. She had never seen a lion up close before, but she imagined it would feel very much the same.

Reaching the bed, he brought the cup to his lips and took a long sip, watching her with open curiosity and a hungry smile. It made her heart flutter and her breathing quicken, but when he put down the cup and raised his hand, she made sure hers wouldn’t shake as she lifted herself to her knees and reached for it.

He pulled her off the bed effortlessly and took both her hands once she stood in front of him, making her stand so close that she had to teeter if she didn’t want to step on his foot.

“Leave them,” he barked to his servant as he started putting out the candles around the table. “And leave us,” he added as he started backing away from the bed.

Having no other choice, she held on to his hands and followed him as she more sensed than saw the servant taking his leave.

“There.” He finally stopped him in a pool of light, letting go of her hands and narrowing his eyes for a moment before he reached for the oil lamp sitting in one of the many alcoves around the room and brought it closer.

Holding it up, he reached for her with his free hand and took a lock of hair from her temple, rubbing it between his fingers, then wrapping it around one of them to see if it matched his ring. It didn’t. It never did. It should have been copper for that, and men wearing anything but gold couldn’t afford looking at her, let alone touching her.

He let it fall back on her shoulder only to take a thicker strand, twisting it around three fingers this time and raising it to his nose.

She watched him close his eyes and inhale her scent before brushing his lips against her hair, then letting it go to lift her chin instead, forcing her to look at him.

She did, and didn’t flinch, not even when he brought the lamp so close she could have sworn she felt its heat as he searched her eyes. She wondered what they reminded him of. The sea? The sky? His reminded her of her cousin. They weren’t as green as hers, but back at home people still would have said it was the colour of mischief.

Knowing a dangerous road when she saw one, she refused to think about her longer than a moment. It’s been almost ten years. There was no way to tell if she was also in a room somewhere, with a man who had never seen the like of her before, or dead. 

No. 

She was alive. She was safe.

She was almost thankful when he ran his thumb across her lower lip, bringing her back to him.

“You speak our language?” he asked in a voice that made her swallow hard.

“Yes, Sire,” she whispered, not trusting her own.

“Good.” He gave her a nod before taking a step back from her. “Then take off your dress and let me see you.”

As he didn’t sound like he wished to be teased, she reached for the neck of her dress that had been hanging off her shoulder anyway and started pulling out her arm. It was a simple dress, meant to come off easily, and it did, showing a breast right away. Then the other as well. She almost didn’t even have to tug at it.

Not wanting to look unrefined, she held on to the fabric and lowered it with her hands instead of letting it fall off her, but in the end it made no difference. When she could no longer follow its route without bending over, she let it slip from between her fingers and pool around her feet.

He breathed out heavily, but made no comment, watching her intently as he ran his fingers through his beard, and he needed to stop that. He needed to stop looking at her like he would at a horse he considered buying.

Most of it was behind her shoulders, but she raised her hands to her hair, lifting it slightly and pushing it back to make sure no stray strand would block his view, then looked up at him as if waiting for further instructions about how to present herself to him.

It worked, but only to an extent.

It made him smile and made him touch her, but it wasn’t a lover’s touch yet.

He started off at her face, caressing it with the back of his fingers, then followed down her jaw, down her neck, down across her chest. He touched her nipple, but barely, taking her breast into his palm instead as if to check its firmness. She doubted he had to purchase his own slaves, but she could tell he was still thinking about her value.

Rushing him didn’t sound like a good idea, but as he stepped to the side and started walking around her, dragging his hand across her ribcage, she followed him with her eyes. 

He noticed it only when she could no longer follow him in the same direction and had to turn her head to the other side to be able to look at him, and arched his brow with a smile.

“You like what you see?” he asked as he stepped in front of her again.

Even though they both knew the only answer she could possibly give, when she pretended to think about it, he played along and stepped back to give her a better view. He even put the lamp back to its alcove and raised his arms slightly.

Emboldened by the offer, she set out to make an informed decision by following him, resting her hand above his heart and taking a look at his face. Although he didn’t seem to be bothered by it, she dared not linger over the scar across his left cheek, but went on the scan the other, less prominent ones across his features. He had a few. And a lip that she didn’t expect to find hard to kiss.

He must have read her thought, because the smile he gave her was as good as a warning to get on with her inspection if she ever wanted to finish it.

She very much wanted to, so she bit down on her own lip and moved on right away.

He was a collection of hard muscle and scars, and while she hadn’t been brave enough to touch his face, she felt perfectly at ease with touching his body. Mimicking his previous actions, she dragged her hand down across his chest, following the trail of soft hair down to his navel. It made his eyes darken and his breathing deepen.

Carefully stepping out of the dress still lying around her feet, she ran her hand up to his shoulder again and stepped to his side, staying close enough so that her breast brushed against his upper arm as she walked behind him. And it seemed to rob him of the last of his patience.

She was about to step behind him, when he raised his arm and stopped her by the waist, dragging her back to stand in front of him and pulling her so close she had nowhere else to put her hands but on his arms.

“You are a bold one, aren’t you?” he asked, splaying his fingers at on the small of her back.

It was easy to see that he was playing with her, and when he dipped his head, first she felt relieved he didn’t really expect her to answer him, but froze when instead of a kiss, he gave her a wicked smile. “Show me how bold.” 

She didn’t even need his servant’s advice to know what to do; raising herself higher in his arm, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his.

He was either pleased with her or suprised by the fact that she had in fact kissed him, because he gave out a short laugh and let her have it her way for a while before he ran his hand up to the back of the head to take back his control and to take her breath away.

Almost literally.

It felt as if all his playfulness had suddenly evaporated. His hands held her tight, his lips attacked hers again and again, and when he turned with her and pushed her against the wall, she couldn’t help but gasp. First with the impact, then when he forced a knee between hers and grabbed her by the thighs so that he could lift her off the ground and have her pinned to the wall with her legs around his waist.

Breathing hard, she looked down at him and held on to his shoulders, waiting for him to free himself and take her, but he seemed to have other plans. Not even a moment later he slid his hands under her backside and started walking towards the bed with her.

She welcomed the idea with all her heart, and when he knelt on the bed and lowered her on the mattress, she stretched out under him with a sight that only got cut off with another searing kiss, quickly followed by many more. Down her jaw. Down her neck. Down her breasts.

She still felt slightly pink from the scrubbing she had received in the bath-house, but it was nothing compared to the way he made her feel. Between his rough hands and teeth, she was expecting to see bruises in the morning. His beard left goosebumps wherever it went, and so did his hair. It was by far the softest part of him, and she enjoyed the way it felt against her skin.

It came without a warning.

One moment he was nipping at the inside of her thigh, then in the next she felt his tongue running along her seam, all the way from her opening to the small pearl hidden between her folds.

She could feel one of her heels make contact with him **–** maybe his shoulder **–** , but before she could have properly panicked about it, he simply let go of her knee and held on to her ankle instead, pressing her foot down to prevent another kick. Then lowered his head and licked her again.

It felt wrong. So very wrong. And yet…

When he went little by little, it didn’t feel that bad. And surely, if she was allowed to pleasure men with her lips…

He seemed to follow no pattern and after a while she didn’t even try to look for one. She closed her eyes and let him do whatever he pleased, because sinful or not, she was growing to like it. So much so that when he released her foot, she drew it back again, opening herself to him as much as she could.

She even had to bite down on her lip when one of his fingers entered her.

But there was nothing she could do when he pulled out then pushed back in, adding a second finger and what felt like the deepest, hungriest kiss he had given her all night. She arched her back and would have moaned into it too if it hadn’t hitched in her throat.

She was close. So very close, that when he left again and failed to return with something more, she nearly cried out with the loss.

He must have caught her expression, because as he sat back on his heels, he wiped his lips and beard in a way that was lewd in itself. “You look like no one has ever wanted to taste you before,” he said with a grin, resting his other hand on her knee.

“Not the way you just did,” she said, shaking her head. They had usually wanted it on their own fingers, and it had never left her aching for more.

“Well,” he almost purred. “How about we see if I have any more surprises for you?”

“I’m sure you do.”

The laugh he gave her was an odd one. Even though it was way too loud to be kind, it didn’t hurt too bad, not even when he patted her knee to let her know that he appreciated the effort, but also suggested working on her flattery.

He also didn’t give her her too much time to dwell on it.

He pushed himself further back from her and was soon standing at the foot of her bed, undoing his belt and unceremoniously dropping his pants.

_Don’t let him catch you looking scared._

Was this what his servant had tried to warn her about? There was really no need for him to do so. She no longer feared any man’s body. If anything, she couldn’t remember the last time her legs had opened for one on their own accord the way they just did when he knelt back on the bed and started crawling up to her.

It probably had more to do with his eagerness than hers, but he didn’t make her wait longer than a few frantic heartbeats’ time. He placed one hand by her shoulder, aligned himself with the other, and filled her in one long thrust, drawing a shaky moan from her lips.

Closing her eyes, she let her body melt into his as she arched her back, inviting him further in.

“Look at me,” he said, and took her by the jaw and made her face him before she could have obeyed him on her own accord.

She took a sharp breath, but didn’t make a sound.

“Brave girl,” he whispered, caressing her jaw with his thumb and rolling his hips.

This time she did whimper, but kept her eyes on his, earning a smile and another deep thrust. 

He set a steady pace that felt like was meant to crush her bones one by one, and as his right hand was still holding on to her jaw, when she found herself to be in need of something to grab, she grabbed his wrist.

It seemed to urge him on, and soon he was pounding her so hard she could no longer take it in silence. Or with her eyes open, so she closed them, hoping this time he would let her keep them closed too.

He did. He gave her the moment she had to have in darkness and with her own screams, concentrating on her own body that would surely ache all over in the morning, but felt humming with desire at the moment.

Then the moment was gone, and he invaded her world again, this time with a kiss.

She didn’t mind. She kissed him back hard and dug her nails into the skin of his wrist, holding on to him for dear life as suddenly all the muscles in her body arched for and around him. It felt divine. She felt divine. 

But when he threw back his head and cried out, she opened her eyes and watched him as he came undone. With his eyes closed, he was a completely different man, and it thrilled her to know that she had him at his most vulnerable.

So much so that she didn’t even notice when he started slowing down, and ended up blushing so furiously when he finally looked back at her and caught her staring that this time he didn’t only laugh at her, but kissed her too, before he rolled off with a deep sigh.

He stretched out on his back, ran his fingers through his hair and was obviously done with her.

She stayed put, closed her legs slowly and was starting to feel cold.

She had always hated this part. When she was no longer needed, but not yet discarded.

“Give me the cup,” he said, motioning towards her side of the bed where he had left it, and she was happy to have something to do, even though her body seemed to be in disagreement when she rolled over, then even had to crawl a bit to reach the edge of the bed and the cup standing on the small table beside it.

He sat up and emptied it in one go, then gave it back to her to fill up.

Even though the was no part of her body that he hadn’t seen before, she felt even more exposed as she walked to the desk. She could hear him moving to put his back against the headboard, could feel his eyes burning her skin, and knew she would have to wait before she would be allowed to go, get cleaned up and lie on her own bed.

As if to leave her in no uncertainty, as she returned to him, he patted his thigh to let her know that was where he wanted her. It wasn’t easy with the cup full, but he didn’t reach for it a moment before she sat down and could offer it to him properly, with both hands.

“What do they call you?” he asked as he lifted it to his lips and took a sip.

“Adyghe.”

“Adyghe,” he repeated after her, tasting it before he tasted the wine again. “But it’s not the name your parents had given you, is it?” he added almost nonchalantly as he rested his free hand on her knee.

She shook her head in silence.

Of course it wasn’t. It was the first man she had been given to, who either out of negligence, or as a small act of mercy had started calling her by the name of her people and let her keep her own to herself. As it had become the only thing she still had that was her own and one of the very few she was willing to get into trouble for, she watched his eyes and waited for him to ask for it.

Ask for it. Raise a brow. Raise a hand. Just don’t expect her to give it freely.

When he raised the cup back to his lips with a smile, she wondered if it had been a test. When he lowered it and offered the last few mouthfuls to her, she knew that she had passed it too, so she took the cup and drank up. 

He waited for her to finish the wine, caressing her thigh idly, then took the empty cup from her and threw it to the side, where it landed on the floor with a loud metallic crash, then rolled back and forth a little longer before it finally stopped. 

“Adyghe.” He mouthed her name again, his eyes flitting between her face and body in a way that suggested he was still only thinking about what to do to her next.

“Your master’s a fool.”

Not knowing what to say to that, she watched as he pushed her hair back behind her shoulder and ran his fingers down the side of her neck, caressing the marks his teeth had left on her before he lowered his head and kissed them too.

“He thought he could buy my friendship with just a night with you,” he whispered against her skin. “But he shouldn’t have let me see you,” he added with a wicked grin as he lifted his head and looked up at her.

“No?” she asked in confusion. 

“Not if he wanted to keep you.” He sneaked an arm around her waist and ran a hand down her arse to pull her against himself possessively. He was not quite ready to be ridden, but was getting there, and something told her that it wasn’t caused by her charms alone.

_Don’t let him catch you looking scared._

With her heart fluttering against her ribs, she did the only thing she felt capable of doing; she leaned in against his chest and ran her hands up his shoulders, hoping against all hope that he would take her loss of breath and speech as signs of excitement.

He looked like he did.

“You will like it in my harem,” he said, holding her close. “You will be happy. And only mine.”

Only his. That sounded good enough to hold on to to keep her tears at bay. She would still remain someone’s plaything, but one that wouldn’t be shared. She kissed him so hard she could almost hear her teeth clashing against his, and when he dug his fingers into her flesh in return, it almost made her cry out. She didn’t mind. She wanted to scream anyway.


End file.
